


Memory of Happiness

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, how do omnics cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10738212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: Genji accompanies Zenyatta to Mondatta's memorial.





	Memory of Happiness

It was dark when they visited.

Genji had never seen the statue up close before. Zenyatta’s former brother stood immortalized over the plaza, holding the hand of an anonymous child, staring up at him in wonder.

Mondatta may as well have been anonymous, from where Genji stood. One had to be quite a ways away to see his face. He wasn’t sure the statue had its intended effect--at the very least, he was certain it was not Zenyatta’s preferred method of memorializing.

His master stood and examined it for only a brief moment before moving on, stepping into a quieter alcove. There was no statue there. Instead, there was a picture frame, surrounded by various small offerings. Melted candles, wilted flowers, a small stack of books sharing space with the framed photograph under an open umbrella, placed carefully so it had less of a chance of blowing away. A kind of circlet, crafted from lengths of frayed wires, was draped over one of the corners of the frame.

Zenyatta sat down in front of the scene, crossing his legs in a pose for meditation. He reached out and touched the charred wicks of each of the candles, testing. “Ah, if I only had a lighter...”

It was the first thing he had said aloud since they had begun their walk there, so Genji took it to be more than just an idle thought.

“There is a hotel across the street. Should I ask to borrow one?”

“I would greatly appreciate that, Genji.”

He nodded, and took his time walking to the hotel, giving Zenyatta time alone to reflect. There was a small store in the lobby that had various items for sale, lighters among them. He took a coin pouch out of the jacket he was wearing for travel, and searched for the correct amount, struggling to put together anything of all one denomination. Thankfully, a staff member at the desk was willing to trade him a lighter in exchange for one of his coins from Nepal. He explained it was worth barely a few cents, but it seemed they were more interested in the novelty of it.

He returned to Zenyatta, and sat down next to him, passing the lighter over. Zenyatta took it and proceeded to light each candle in turn, the motions of his hands having a ritualistic nature to them.

Shadows flickered around them as Zenyatta fell still, crossing his hands in his lap and staring at the framed portrait.

Genji sat there quietly, resisting the urge to fidget with his sleeves. He was full of adoration and respect for his master, but there were still times when being with Zenyatta was uncomfortable. He could not read a face that had no expression.

He attempted to become okay with the reality that Zenyatta would reach out for comfort if that’s what he wished to do, and it was not Genji’s responsibility to read him given that he did not.

He sat there quietly, closing his eyes and being content in his master’s presence. He listened to the soft murmuring of people across the street, and the whirring of cars echoing off the stone walls. He listened to the gentle humming of Zenyatta’s robotic breath, each of his elements performing in tandem.

“Why do we feel grief?”

Genji opened his eyes, awakened from his reverie.

“Master?”

Zenyatta’s face was now turned upwards to the night sky, perhaps searching for stars that were impossible to see beyond the lights of the city. “I wish I could not, at times. There must be some benefit to this suffering.”

“Everything exists in balance,” Genji said, tentatively drawing on teachings Zenyatta had provided him many times before. “Without grief, there would be no happiness.” He looked at the ground, gathering his thoughts. “I believe...it is simply the memory of happiness you no longer have. That after time, those memories again become comforting. To think on times you once were happy. Once you know that you will feel that happiness again.”

He glanced up, to see Zenyatta still facing the sky.

“A marvelous answer, Genji,” he said, his voice lacking its usual tone of encouragement. “You have learned well.”

“Thank you, master.”

Zenyatta was still for a moment, until the orbs suspended around his neck abruptly fell to the ground, ringing clear in the quiet space.

Genji startled, leaping forward to place a hand on Zenyatta’s shoulder. “Master...!”

Zenyatta turned to face him, his movements lethargic. “Genji,” he said, voice more distorted than he had ever heard it. “I...”

Genji moved closer, and wrapped his arms around him, heart sore. Zenyatta’s head came to rest against his shoulder, his body going almost limp in Genji’s arms.

It felt like an eternity before he finally spoke again, reaching up to place a hand on one of Genji’s at his shoulder.

“I am glad to have you here,” he said, voice still weak. “I do not know if I could bear this on my own.”

Genji nodded, holding him ever closer.

They sat there in silence until the last of the candles left them in the dark.


End file.
